Reason
by Allume a Pense
Summary: We didn’t give up.' Mitchie corrected, sniffling. 'You waited too long. It died.' 'Love doesn't die.' he argued. MS.


**Author's Note: I AM IN LOVE WITH CAMP ROCK. Anyway, this is just a little fluff. I'm not really into FF anymore, but I can't wait to read and review all the new stories, and maybe post a few of my own.**

**Review, please, and let me know if you like it!**

* * *

'_This is real, this is me,  
__I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be,'_

The soft, melodic voice drifted gently through the night air. A bit late to be walking your dog, if you asked the girl performing the very task. Her golden retriever mix perked its drooping tail at the sound of its master's beautiful singing voice. She rarely ever sang in front of people, not since summer of three years ago when she attended a monument to all things musical christened Camp Rock. She performed her hand-written song, 'This is Me' in front of a very large crowd, including an internationally famous group called Connect 3. The lead singer of Connect 3, Shane Gray had been on the girl's mind for weeks – even months – after the summer ended.

Although he promised to call her, the gentle auburn would wait by her phone day and night, hoping to hear a word from the boy with the raspy singing voice and soft brown eyes. Not a word did he ever say to her after that summer. After awhile, Mitchie Torres just gave up hope. This was when she adapted her firmly-believed motto:

People always leave.

The 17 year old managed to stop her song to murmur to herself. "I need to find you, I gotta find you. Right. If you needed to find me so badly, you would have called." she shook her head, and her reddish-brown hair (which fell to well past her shoulder blade now) blew around in the light breeze. Somber brown eyes looked around the park she was walking through. It was dark but felt secure, with a full moon overhead and trillions of blinking stars canopying her against the dark velvet cloth of night.

With her dog's leash loosely in her hand, Mitchie paused to take a look at a sign she had never noticed before. Before she could stop him, Max, her faithful pet of about two years, began to run off into the darkness. "Max! Max, get back here!" and with that, she took off running to follow him. The soft noises the pads on the bottom of his feet and his overgrown nails made were faintly heard in the distance. "Max!" Mitchie's eyes brimmed with tears. She couldn't lose something close to her, again.

"Get your dog!" a voice echoed from the dark. Max's familiar bark sounded. Mitchie's pace quickened and she was almost sprinting to the sound. Once she saw her dog sitting loyally on the ground in front of a figure standing above it, she ran like she never ran before. _Please don't let me trip. Please don't let me trip._

"Oof!"

The wind was knocked clear out of the girl's stomach as she feel about 5 feet from her dog and the stranger. Groaning, she pushed herself up with her torn up palms, only to realize that her exposed knee was cut right open and dripping blood. "Perfect." she rolled her eyes and extended her knee. Looking back, she realized the reason for her fall was an elevation in the sidewalk that she hadn't seen.

She looked up at the tall man holding Max by the leash. He was laughing but bent down by Mitchie and handed her the leash. "Run much, kid?"

"Kid?" she argued. "How old do I look to you, twelve?"

He only shrugged. "Kinda clumsy to be an adult, don't you think? Anyway, here's your dog. Next time, get a better grip on him, alright Trippy?" and with that, he just stood up and began to walk away. Mitchie looked shocked as the boy just continued in the direction he was heading. She didn't even get a good look at his face.

"So that's it?!" she called after him. He stopped about 10 feet in front of her and turned around, heading back towards her. "You're not even going to help me up? Nothing?"

"I found your dog for you, didn't I?" he disputed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I actually have important things to do in my life."

"What did I ever do to you?" Mitchie argued angrily.

The boy paused. "Who are you?"

"I'm a _person_. And there's a way to talk to a person."

There was a long awkward silence following this line, as the boy just stared and stared at Mitchie, still bleeding on the ground. Her dog restlessly shifted from laying on one side to the other. Suddenly, the boy started to laugh gently in a 'joke's on me' sort of manner as he offered a hand to her. Cautiously and timidly, she took it and pushed herself up from the ground. She stumbled but caught herself from falling again. "You're right. There is a way to talk to a person, and that's not the way I was talking to you. Don't worry, I wasn't always like this."

"Uh, great." Mitchie brushed herself off nervously. Part of her wondered why this complete stranger wanted to tell her this. "Well, I really have to go. Uh, nice meeting you."

"Sure, anytime, Mitchie." he shrugged and began to walk away, all with a knowing smile gracing his lips. Mitchie's breath got caught in her throat as she took a shaky step forward.

"Wait!" she called out. Again, the man stopped and looked straight at her. A veil of black hair hid his eyes. "What did you call me?"

"Mitchie. That's your name, right?" he chuckled, moving closer to her.

"Well, yeah," Mitchie answered, dumbfounded. "But how did you know that? Have we met? Who are _you?_" the questions all came out at once.

"3 years ago in a kitchen at summer camp, a girl named Mitchie said those exact words to me, and I never forgot them, for one." he answered coolly as if seeing this girl was the most normal thing in the world. Mitchie just stared as she tried to remember the person she said those words to. "We have met, yeah. My name's Shane." he brushed the hair from his face, and behind the pall, Mitchie saw the familiar brown eyes looking lovingly at her the same way she wished they did 3 years ago.

Now it was Mitchie's turn to laugh. "Yeah right. If you think I believe that, you must think my dog owns me." she tugged on Max's leash. "Besides, I've only known one Shane. And he doesn't remember anything about me, I can promise you that right now."

Shane looked confused. "Of course he—of course I remember you! Mitchie Torres, you wrote 'This is Me' and performed it at Final Jam at Camp Rock …I did the duet with you. I think the question should be, do _you _remember anything about _me?"_

"No," Mitchie shook her head. "Of course I remember you—Shane. I waited weeks to hear a word from him and nothing. I guess old habits die hard." she shrugged. Maybe playing this little game of charades would hurt less than accepting the fact that Shane was standing right in front of her.

"Mitchie, I wanted to call you," Shane placed both his hands on her arms. She felt the heat behind her eyes begin to become unbearable as she looked away from him. The pain in her kneecap became unnoticeable as her throat tightened and her vision became blurry. "Honestly, I did, but there was no time—"

"No time." Mitchie repeated. "No time to make one little call? You couldn't pencil me into your busy schedule? That makes me feel great." a tear rolled down her cheek as she dropped the leash. Max wasn't going anywhere now.

"You know it's not like that," Shane spoke gently. "I wanted to but I am seriously not allowed to. Please don't cry Mitchie, you know I can't stand it."

"You could stand it that day at camp when you were practically the reason I was crying." Mitchie shook her head. No use beating a dead horse. "I understand, it's okay. You're famous, and popular and loved. There isn't enough minutes in the day to steal one to talk to someone who's not of, well …_your _status. Why are you here, anyway?"

"Mitchie, I was _looking _for you. I had Nate and Jason convince our manager that our sick grandmother lived here and we needed to be here for here, but we came just so I could find you and talk to you again." Shane looked like he was about to cry himself, and just the sight made even more warm tears trickle slowly down Mitchie's soft cheek. They pooled on her lips and she brushed them away.

"Well," she took a breath, "You've found me. You're talking to me. You're just too late."

"How can it be too late?" Now Shane seemed angry – but not at Mitchie, more at himself. He ran a hand through his hair as he turned so he back faced her and began to pace. "How can we give up something we already started?"

"We didn't give up." Mitchie correctly, sniffling. "You waited too long. It died."

"How does love die?" Shane argued, but once he said it, he wished he could take it back.

"Love? Well, love doesn't die. Are you saying …what I think you're saying?" Mitchie took a clumsy step forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. At her gentle touch, Shane's body covered in goosebumps as he turned back around. Her eyes still seemed cloudy from tears, but they no longer seemed angry or sad or, anything, to put it bluntly. They seemed blank.

"I'm saying," he started cautiously. Words ran through his mind, but none seemed poetic, or truthful enough to say. _For a song writer, I'm pretty unoriginal. _"That for the past 3 years I can't stop thinking about you. We haven't recorded a song in forever because all of them sound too close to 'This is Me'. It's been stuck in my head since I heard you sing it. I'm always wondering what you're doing, if you're okay, if you have a boyfriend …" Shane looked expectantly at her as if he were subliminally asking her. Mitchie picked up on the hint and shook her head no. "And whenever I would pick up my phone to call you, I'd be whisked off somewhere new."

"Do you," Mitchie paused to catch her breath, "have any idea the mental torture you put me through for months?"

"I know, and I'm sorry, but everything's just going fast, and …" Shane paused. "Mitchie, I'm sorry if you don't feel the same way, but I just have to let you know that …I'm in love with you." he looked hopefully at her, but she was looking at her feet. "I mean …it must be pretty close to love. I've never been in love before, but this is how everyone describes it …you hate me. I shouldn't have told you. I'm sorry, I hope this doesn't affect our friend—"

Not paying any mind to her torn open knee, Mitchie stood on her toes to wrap both arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Shane was stiff with her surprise, but once he realized what was going on, he closed his eyes and followed suit when Mitchie boldly parted her lips to deepen the kiss. Once they both pulled away, Mitchie wiped away her final tear and spoke. "It was the only way I could get you to shut up long enough for me to say, I love you too."

As the two teens fell into a warm hug, Shane buried his nose into her sweet-scented hair and whispered, "I've found you."

"You never lost me."


End file.
